Frost Bitten
by sphinxs-legend
Summary: On his deathbed, Sigyn's father reveals three of the most important facts she'll ever hear: 1) He is not her father. 2) She is not Asgardian. 3) If anyone finds out who she is, Sigyn will be killed. Sigyn's new life is full of rules she must follow to remain safe. She may have even followed them...if only she hadn't met the God of Mischief first.
1. Prologue

**Frost Bitten**

* * *

Prologue

The room was quiet, or perhaps Sigyn was simply having trouble paying attention. That would have made the most sense. She couldn't get her mind to focus or her thoughts to clear long enough to able to digest all that had happened in the last handful of days…and finally all the answers – no, all the _solutions_ – were in front of her, yet she had no access to them.

She tried hard to stay attentive to the men in front of her, watching them move and speak, despite still being unable to follow their flow of conversation. Though she didn't need to follow their thoughts to know where they were going…no, she knew well the blame they were placing on their prisoner. Each of these men had done terrible things in turn and now she was to ignore their flaws and sit in judgement of the one person she promised never to doubt? The feeling sat heavily in the pit of her stomach.

"Loki's mind is far afield. It is not just power he craves. It is vengeance, upon me. There's no pain would prise his need from him."

Thor was mistaken for there was at least one pain that Sigyn could imagine the twisted man would understand more than his brother would ever know. Her stomach churned even thinking about him, thinking of all the things her Loki had done. Thor threw a distinctive look her way at whatever the intimidating director had said. Sigyn again had not paid attention to their base, but the golden prince's gaze told her their meaning. "What are you asking me to do?"

"I'm asking 'what are you _prepared_ to do?'" Nick Fury's one good eye landed on the tall woman standing uncomfortably between them. His steely gaze found her own, begging sensibility from her…but even her unrelenting honestly would not have been able to come up with an answer for him.

"Loki is a prisoner," she voiced, with a wavering tone that revealed her insecurities.

"Then why do I feel like he's the only person on this boat who wants to be here?"

Sigyn had no response for what she knew was the truth. No prison had ever held Loki in the past… Whatever would make her believe that this could hold him now? The humans were industrious, yes, this she knew, but no one was more determined than the man in that glass cage.

"We need to figure out what he wants," Agent Coulson's voice was smooth, but Sigyn could hear the growing lie that sat on the tip of his tongue, even if he had not yet spoken it. She nodded at the insinuation before they even need suggest it.

"Let me go," she offered, her voice stronger than before. No one was surprised by her words or her determination. In fact, this all seemed to comfort them. "It's time I have a word with my husband."


	2. Chapter One

Chapter One

Loki was irritated, Frigga could sense it on him. While her son was prone to agitation, it had not been her intent to annoy him so badly. In fact, it had not been her intent for him to know about her plans at all…but Loki was clever and that cleverness often let his temper get the best of him on the best of days. Now, of course, Loki had realized that he was caught in a game, of sorts – and to make matters worse, it appeared to be a game he was losing. Frigga busied herself from his glare by pouring wine into the goblets she always left out for his visits but it only made him frown more, sensing her avoidance.

"Will you not answer?"

"I did answer," she smiled coyly. "I do not know where the book has gone, Loki."

He did not trust her, his eyes said it enough. His mother's usual smile was not being hidden away today – it appeared that this was her game to referee – and he could not voice enough just how much he did not enjoy participating. He tried not to huff in annoyance while he took the offered goblet from her, swirling the deep red wine so he could make sure it was not tampered with.

Her son: suspicious as always.

"Where is your handmaiden?" He asked, glancing around her empty sitting room. The grand, gold filigree lit the room in a way simple sunlight would never have accomplished on its own. There were very few things that could be hidden or obscured within a golden castle, Loki knew it well. That was why the absence of her handmaidens – but particularly of Fulla – was so noticeable. "Could she have it?"

Frigga tried hard not to smile. "Oh, I doubt anyone working in the castle would have such similar taste in 'light' reading."

Loki doubted this, too. Hesiod's theory – a 900 page, dusty tome – was not something people tended to go looking for. This was precisely how he knew his mother was toying with him.

"Why ask me a question you know I cannot prove?" He asked though the question was more asked to himself, knowing that she would not answer him. "Why did you want me looking for that book? What trick could you possibly be playing?"

"Not all things are tricks, Loki," she could not hold back her laughter anymore. She placed a gentle hand on him to try and show her sincerity. "Some things are just happy accidents."

"And what 'happy accident' am I walking into so blindly?" He asked, an eyebrow raised. "What has fate shown you would happen when I go hunting for that book?"

"Even if I was made aware of something to come, you know I could not say."

Sadly, he did know this. No matter how many times he had asked his mother to reveal her foresight to him, she never would. She had taken a vow long ago that the future would remain a secret, even if she did have the power to glimpse into it. It was an annoying habit she had – leading her family into fate's path and smiling all the while.

"So, do you actually care about Hesiod's theory of evolution, or are you just waiting for fate to bump into me?" He asked, setting his goblet back on the table. Though he doubted his mother would have put anything but wine in that cup, he did not care to drink it. He would be heading off to spar soon and he did not want his reflexes to be dulled. Not when he was going up against a brute like his brother.

"Would I have asked the question otherwise?" She asked, making sure that she was difficult to read – there was nothing she would give away to ruin the path her son was on. She refused to let it happen. Fate had plans for this day and she, of all people, would not be the one to get in their way. It was no secret that her son had not learned his mischievousness from anywhere suspicious. His mother was always toying in the lives of her family – usually for the better – but he still took it personally when she could best him and his tricks.

For someone with such a sense of humour, Loki did not like being fooled.

"I am not playing into your hand, Mother," he sighed. "I have better ways to occupy my time. If there is something important that I need to know, come out with it."

"There is no need to be so rude," she admonished, watching as her son had the decency to look embarrassed. He did not often take his frustration out on her. She knew, from experience, that he always bristled before he was set to spar with Thor. "Though if you do not wish to find me proof that Hesiod believed the Gods were born of clay, then I gather I have won the argument."

If her son could have melted her with his eyes, he would have.

More than hating to be fooled, Loki loathed being wrong.

"The Gods were not born of clay, the _creatures_ were—" he cut himself off, realizing that she was catching him up in her web again. "No. No, I am not playing your games mother. I know I am right."

"You can believe you are right all you want," she shrugged. "But without proof, I will not believe it."

"I am not falling for your tricks mother," he warned her, backing towards the door as if to prove his point. "It does not matter what you are trying to lead me to, I will not follow."

"Then you shall likewise lose," she smiled brightly to him. "Have a nice day, Loki."

Her son, face reddening, exited her chambers without another word.

Frigga knew without a doubt in her mind that it would be a nice day for Loki, indeed.

* * *

Loki had not made it halfway down the ornate corridor before he felt his mind begin to itch. It was a horrible sensation, one of a deeply seeded _need_ to prove himself. His mother often played on it, his entire family did. Though he tried to ignore the sensation, it was not long before his feet led him – without his forethought _or_ consent – to the Palace Library rather than the Training Grounds.

Loki had spent his entire life between these shelves. While he doubted his brother had taken the time to ever read a book for pleasure, he seemed to never be able to put them down. His love for knowledge had always been all-consuming. To Loki, knowledge was not only a privilege but something that could be weaponized. Because of his over-preparedness, Loki was often found equipped with a book – a new one every time someone would even notice he was there at all.

Which, of course, was why this was so infuriating.

He knew he was correct on Hesiod's theory, his _mother_ knew he was right about Hesiod's theory…but something was urging her to play on his weaknesses to find proof of it. But Loki was equipped, as always, with the knowledge and wisdom of the old tomes he loved and he refused to walk into whatever trick his mother had left for him. And so to avoid falling into any traps, Loki used the first of the many abilities he had learned; Loki cloaked himself in invisibility.

It was an easy trick, one he had mastered at a young age. He remembered fondly how impressed his mother had been at his talent – but the rest of Asgard had not been so kind. Asgard was based in an old, antiquated system of valour and to hide was to be cowardly in the eyes of those who worshipped warriors. They did not believe that there was a use to anything besides brute force – and Loki had never been one to run head-first, yet thoughtless into battle. There was no point. Not when you could make things crumble from the inside out.

Students milled through the racks, picking at their literature and studies of choice. Some had stolen away between the shelves to be in private – Loki always liked toying with them best. No one should have disrespected this library and those who did often found themselves running out of it in fear of one of his illusions.

Today, Loki had other plans and ignored these children. Today he trekked carefully through the aisles, pleased as always to be unknown to the lines of students studying at the ornate tables between the rows. He stopped only when he reached the section that held the tome in question. Hesiod's theory _should_ have been on an upper shelf, far from prying eyes, with a layer of dust covering it – after all, the last time he had checked it out was decades before and no one else would have cared for such a dry read.

But there it was _not_. Instead, all that greeted him was a blank space where his answers should have been. There were no cobwebs or dust, but rather the dust had been shuffled aside as the book had scraped against the wood when someone else had taken it – and with it, his proof.

"So then you _are_ going sparring, Delling?" A voice asked as it rounded the corner. A group entered his aisle, half a dozen of them, all in various garbs. At least three were students – two in healing robes, one in Vanir apprentice robes, and the rest garbed in informal attire. The girl who had spoken had wide, blue eyes that gazed up longingly at the man she was questioning.

He was a golden-boy in all literal and metaphorical senses of the word. Everything about him looked like it had been dipped in the mineral – his hair, his skin, even his eyes had a strange hazel and gold-like quality to them. Behind him, one of the girls in healer's robes had a similar complexion. Her hair was tied up in neat and intricate apprentice braids.

"I may go tonight," he smiled. "After patrol, but only if I make it to dinner – we need to be home, of course. _Don't we_ , Sigyn?"

"Hmn," the girl in mage's robes hummed, not looking up at the question despite how pointedly it had been asked. Loki was surprised that they would live in the same household when he had been so sure the other woman – the one again dipped in gold – should have been the one he was related to. This girl certainly did not look like a family member. Her dark hair and pale skin stood out in contrast and she was much taller than the other woman. Her nose was buried in a book – one of the many in her arms – and she walked blindly alongside the shelves.

Her loss of awareness around her was intriguing. He had—

Oh no.

 _No_. He was not falling for this. His mother was trying to set him up, wasn't she?

Well, he wouldn't have it. He was tired of her playing her match-making games. None of the women she seemed to find appropriate ever met his fancy. They were boring, they were vapid, and they often only had eyes for his brother. It was something he had learned to avoid so as not to re-live.

"I am so sorry to hear about your father, Delling," the girl with the wide blue eyes said again. Her tone held a falseness to it. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

Both the golden girl and the dark girl – Sigyn – looked up toward each other and breathed out a quiet, mocking laugh. Sigyn did not look at all like the two golden creatures. Her eyes were just as dark as her hair – contrasting sharply against her skin. They were doe-like eyes, wide and large like a curious animal.

"Oh yes," the golden girl tried hard not to laugh. "Our brother is so very alone."

Sigyn tried to hide her smile while she took a book from her large pile and held up to the shelf Loki had been investigating. The old tome in her hand, easily 900 pages and no longer dusty, was _Hesiod's Theory of Creation and Evolution_ …the very book he had been looking for.

His mother _was_ trying to set him up.

Even knowing that, he moved closer, his curiosity getting the better of him. No, he did not want to date her and he refused to acknowledge whatever set-up his mother was trying to accomplish…but what was it about this girl that had his mother so fascinated? Was it only their similar styles in reading? Or the fact that she was in Vanir robes? It was not a far stretch to imagine that if she studied in Vanaheim, she was likely a student of magic. So why, as she was wearing the robes of the Vanir, was she here in Asgard instead of at the institute abroad?

The book that was in her hand disappeared in the blink of an eye, reappearing on its shelf – as if it had never left save for its regular coating of dust having been removed. She was definitely a student of magic.

"How many more?" Delling, the golden boy, called back. Sigyn looked up with a roll of her large eyes only to stop short…her gaze falling on Loki. Her face went slack.

"Your Majesty," she fell into a small curtsy. "I apologize. We did not know that you were here."

Loki could not find a response within him – he was just as surprised as she was by the interaction. How had she seen him? Had he not cast a cloaking spell on himself, was he not hidden from the eyes of others?

Evidently, he was hidden to everyone else in their vicinity, considering the other young studies around her looked around the area aimlessly. It only took a moment before they began casting her worried looks – they trusted her. They trusted that she was right. This magic, this trickery, that she was performing was apparently not an uncommon occurrence.

"Did you—" she cleared her throat, clearly uncomfortable as she cast her eyes down. "Have I taken a book that you require?"

Another pause stretched between them as he tried to make sense of what was happening. How was it that this woman was seeing him, despite his enchantments? Before he had a chance to really contemplate it, the book fell hard onto the flagstone between them. She must have conjured it when he did not answer.

"Hesiod's Theory – hardly light reading," he managed after a long moment. He watched the red slowly creep up from her neck all the way to her ears as she bowed her head.

"I do not believe in 'light reading'," she stated simply before falling into a deep bow. "I hope to never take another of your novels. I apologize."

"I did not say I wanted it," he noted. She looked up, ignoring the eyes that still searched for him in the area she was looking. They were starting to have doubt now, that was clear – still, no one spoke against her. Her lips quirked up quickly at his words and she levelled a playful look on him, her eyes twinkling in a way that was all too familiar.

"You did not need to." She bowed again. "Forgive me."

And with that, she scurried away, not waiting for her friends to follow her.

Loki sighed heavily, watching as the others searched for him – just in case there was something obvious they had missed – before they followed her through the tall stacks of the library. He moved to pick up Hesiod's theory, the dust no longer permeating the cover.

He sighed.

He hated when his mother was right.

* * *

 **Thank you all for reading. For anyone who has read my other stories, particularly 'Green Eyed Monster', please know that these chapters will not be as long in an effort to be able to update more often. This story will be a Loki/OC romance (is it OC if this character is based off his actual wife in mythology?) and will span through the Thor and Avengers movies. Please let me know what you think of this first glimpse into the story and please remember to review and add me on twitter** EgyptsLegend **for more content, samples of the story, Q &As, as well as updates on the process.**

 **Thank you all!**


	3. Chapter Two

Chapter Two

No matter how often Sigyn visited the Bifrost, she was always amazed by how bright it was. She sat atop the crystal of the path, watching as the light splintered beneath her fingertips. As always, she marvelled in how the light would dance below the crystal and skirt away toward the Bifrost Gate. If she tried really hard, she could follow it or deflect its course – the energy nearly had a tangible presence beneath the crystal and she loved the game it presented to try and alter its track. After one of these slips, when it skirted away in the wrong direction, Sigyn took the time to examine her hand and the warmth that lay on it.

She continued this over and over and over again, as she had done every night for two weeks.

"How do you ever get any work done?" She asked Heimdall, who sat gazing away from her. As per usual, the Gatekeeper was ignoring her astonishment, knowing that she would be as stunned today as she would be when she visited again tomorrow. "I would be so overwhelmed by everything you see, everything you hear. All this energy is so distracting."

"There are other things to watch when you can see as I do," Heimdall said simply.

"But that's my point!" She pointed out. She turned to look at him fully to help make her point, all while knowing he would not return the favour. "I would be distracted by a bee, nonetheless the universe…"

In all her years visiting the Gatekeeper, Sigyn had never heard Heimdall laugh. She was proud to say, however, that every now and then she could see the tiny quirk of his lip when he was amused. She found it endearing, particularly considering Heimdall rarely conversed or allowed himself to be amused by people at all.

"I wish I had half your ability," she looked away to hide her grimace. "My abilities often get me into trouble."

She had to hold herself back from making a face while just thinking about her exchange with the prince that afternoon. She had realized too late that the prince had cloaked himself, and instead of avoiding his eye as someone of her station should, she had announced his presence to all the other scholars around her. Her only hope was that he would forget her face, particularly after she had ignored his lie and had given him his book anyway. Perhaps her peace offering would be enough to keep her safe from any of his infamous revenge tactics.

"Everyone has a purpose, young Sigyn. Your day will come," Heimdall informed her, his voice almost comforting. She let out a small laugh.

"Let me know when that day is," it was hard for the young girl not to roll her eyes, but she didn't want to insult the man at the gate. If she rolled her eyes he was bound to know.

"Can you see my class, are they studying?" She asked wistfully. "Have they moved on from Ulldrs' third rule as of yet?"

"They have," he responded easily. She doubted the man even had to search to know the answer, but the response made Sigyn frown. She was missing a devastating amount of her schooling being back Asgard and she didn't like it. While she knew she was not anywhere near being behind in her actual studies, she didn't like feeling like she was missing out on the small things you could only learn in lecture. It had been two weeks since she had arrived back in her Aesir home and with each passing hour, she missed the grand Vanir halls she had grown used to more and more.

Heimdall swivelled his head over to the side as if he was hearing something faint. He took a moment to look over his shoulder and then brought his eyes to her own.

"Your mother wishes you home," he told her suddenly. Now she did roll her eyes – it would have been impossible not to. "Your parents seem upset."

"When aren't they?" Sigyn muttered to herself, standing up from the Rainbow Bridge and straightening out her white apprentice robes. Her mother had always been a highly strung and overbearing woman, but life had gotten worse once her father had grown ill. Now that the news was public on Tyr's prognosis, her mother, Fulla, had ordered all her children home. With everyone else coming back, it had been no place of Sigyn's to argue. As much as she wanted to be back in Vanaheim with her lessons, she knew her family needed her here to spend time with her father in his final weeks.

"Are my siblings already there?"

"All but Delling. It seems you are late for dinner," the Gatekeeper explained flatly. He never found regular events like this worth a lot of attention. All the same, Sigyn sighed to herself. He was right, she was sure – Sigyn had, again, lost track of time.

Her mother never believed that she could stay out on the Bifrost for the hours that she did. It was cold for many this high over the water and boring for those who did not have a relationship with the Gatekeeper. But honestly, though she had one now, she probably didn't need one. Back when Sigyn had started her regular trips down to stargaze, it had been just as nice not to have to say anything to the Gatekeeper at all, simply so she could organize with her thoughts. Often that's all they did. The benefit of her magic and his own was that they could often see what the other preferred.

"Have a calm night with the stars, good Heimdall," she called out to him as she began to walk back toward the golden city. "Please let me know if my class moves on to Hod's theory. I'm behind in my elemental readings."

"'Behind' implies that you have not already done the readings," if she would have been looking, she knew that Heimdall would have been showing off that small smile again. "I suspect you still have six days before they will move on."

Six days until they turn to Hod's theory of elemental change? That should be time enough to get more literature on the subject. That is, of course, if she could put down the newest books on Freyr's shapeshifting techniques for a day.

It was unlikely at best.

The walk home was peaceful, as the nights in Asgard always were. Because of her mother's duties serving the queen, the family often ate later at night. As she walked, Sigyn found herself hoping that tonight would feature her mother's cooking rather than the cooking of either of her sisters. Her eldest sister, Radny, had cooking that was particularly difficult to stomach. Because she had been married within the last decade she was trying to settle down and begin a family all her own. She said all she needed was practice – Sigyn just couldn't imagine, at this rate, how many more decades that would take…

"Are you only getting to dinner now?" A voice called out from behind her. Were it later in the eve Sigyn may have been unnerved by the break in the nightly sounds, but her brother's voice was just as familiar as the rest of the street she was striding along. This was where she had been raised and she knew each shadow well, including her brother in his guard-gear. It was not the same as an Einherjar uniform, for it was not as high a position, but her brother was working diligently to rise up the ranks. He was taking every piece of work that would prepare him for the day he was finally accepted into the elite palace warriors.

"You're not at dinner either," she snipped back, frowning at her brother. He laughed at her expression.

"I'm following in father's footsteps," he countered. "You're just making your own. As usual."

"Some would find that honourable," she argued back, but she smiled at him anyway. While his words were painfully true, she knew he did not mean them as critically as her father always did.

"Or they may assume that you're looking for trouble," he disputed with a similar smile. One of her brother's soon-to-be soldier friends did not see the light-hearted humour of the interaction.

"You should be careful, Miss Sigyn," he said with a stern tone. "It is a strange time for our land and a maiden like yourself should be protected."

"Oh Theoric, you need not worry about my sister," Delling laughed, shouldering his friend appreciatively. "I certainly see no reason to. My father taught us well how to take care of ourselves. But you should go to dinner, Sigyn, be with him."

Sigyn could practically feel the sorrow radiating from her brother and it went without saying that her brother would rather switch positions with her. She would have too. While Sigyn wanted nothing more than to stay out into the night, she knew she shouldn't keep her family waiting any longer. They were grieving, preparing for a life-altering event. The intrusive guard was right, these were difficult times and she did not want them upset.

After a short walk, Sigyn entered her family home and was met with a bustling kitchen and a pre-set dinner table. Her two sisters were bickering over something that was steaming in a pan.

"You over-season everything," Sjofn huffed in frustration. "Just let me finish it."

"If you put in six times the salt of last night's dish, it would still be too little," Radny hissed back. These two often quarrelled and Sigyn had grown up listening to arguments just like these. "Now please pass the potatoes."

"Do you need help of any kind, or can I avoid the inevitable food fight?" Sigyn asked with a smile. The two girls looked to her and blinked before going back to glaring at each other.

"You're not taking this away from me," her eldest sister hissed. Sigyn tried hard not to laugh at the threat; everyone in the family knew that Sjofn would beat Radny in any battle.

Sigyn ended up swooping in to save the food from their anger. She took the dish away from them both, insisting that it was done well enough for their simple family meal. She continued to help prepare by filling the water goblets and moving finished dishes onto the dinner table. It took only a few minutes after she began that her mother entered, carefully assisting her father.

Up until Sigyn had returned to Asgard, her father had always been a very intimidating man. Tyr was the God of War – specializing in the law and justice of war crimes – so he was always an imposing figure in and outside of the household. He had handed down his genetics to all his children but Sigyn: blonde haired, light eyed, and strong.

Now that Tyr was sick, he looked very different from the man she had known. His pallor extended all the way to his shock of now white hair, the spark in his eyes had dulled, his strength had given way to a crippling weakness that seemed to translate down to his very bones. Since Sigyn had left to apprentice over a decade before, his frown had permanently secured itself to his face. Pain does that to a person – even if a god. But still, despite knowing what was happening to her father, it was strange to see him this way.

When Sigyn had been young, she and her father had been close. Very close. He had loved her quirks and her curiosity – in fact, he had encouraged it. He had bonded with her over her love of finding answers, whatever form the questions may take. He had loved searching for those answers with her, he had loved explaining the ways of the universe as he knew it…but as she grew alongside her curiosity, his patience had diminished. Tyr began to pull away and slowly, with time, Sigyn grew unsettled by him.

All this emotion had come to a head when Sigyn had decided to study magic.

The family had never been the same since.

As her family members took their seats – save her brother Delling, who was still out watching the uneventful streets below the palace – Sigyn tried hard not to draw attention to herself. As always, the unspoken theme of the dinner was one that she could not follow. The table, the place settings, the goblets, the napkins, her entire _family_ looked like it had been dipped in gold. Her sisters had golden hair and eyes, their skin was golden toned and seemed to sparkle. Her brother, while absent, followed suit. Her mother had always loved gold, so much so that it seemed she had coloured her children with it.

But not Sigyn.

Sigyn shared her mother's attributes: her skin was not golden, but a pale olive tone. Her eyes were not hazel but a deep, rich brown. Her hair was not blonde and wispy as her siblings, but dark and thick. Were her mother not dark haired and eyed as well, Sigyn would have wondered whether this family was even her own.

"How are you feeling, father?" Radny asked, leaning forward to place her hand on her father's arm. He gave her a soft smile in return.

"It is a good day," he informed. He was lying, Sigyn knew it instinctively. She did not need her talent for knowing the truth to hear how his voice did not seem to agree with him. He sounded weak and airy today – a sign of increased pain and exhaustion. Each day it grew worse, she could see it. The family waited for their father to take the first bite of food so that they could all do the same. He looked remised to do it – Sigyn couldn't help but wonder if nausea was playing a factor today and if the only reason he was eating at all was so that they didn't feel guilty about beginning their meal.

"This is delicious, Radny," Fulla, Sigyn's mother, smiled. "Not nearly as salty as last night."

Sjofn slowly turned to Radny, a wicked smile playing on her lips and a twinkle in her eye. Sigyn tried hard not to laugh at the mischievous expression.

"Does anyone know how long until Delling arrives?"

"I saw him patrolling the streets," Sigyn informed quietly. "He worried he would not arrive in time. In fact, he mocked me for nearly being late."

"And why were you late?" Tyr's voice, while weak, seemed lower and more suspicious when he addressed his youngest daughter. Sigyn cleared her throat, trying to keep her composure after his change in tone.

"I simply lost track of time," she explained vaguely. She did not want to elaborate any more for she knew that her father would not approve of where she had been. He rarely did.

"Wait—" Radny cocked her head to the side, looking over Sigyn's shoulder as if she just had a rogue thought. "Delling's returned."

It barely took a moment before Delling entered the dining area, out of breath and with his protective gear still on. Once upon a time, he would have been in trouble for this. Now Sigyn thought her father may have liked to see the gear on him. Perhaps it made him proud to see that while he could no longer serve the crown, his son would.

"I'm sorry to be so late," Delling tried to catch his breath between words. "Theoric allowed me to leave when Asmund joined him."

"That's alright," her father smiled, patting his shoulder appreciatively as his son sat down. "Tell us about your day."

"There was nothing of note," Delling smiled, digging into his food like a beast. He took a few bites and hummed appreciatively. "Oh, good job, Radny – not nearly as salty this time."

This time, her older sister Sjofn could not hold in her laughter.

"That's hardly polite, Sjofn," her mother scolded. Sigyn, herself, could not hold back her smile.

While she knew you were not supposed to pick favourite family members, Sigyn would not deny she enjoyed spending time with Sjofn most. Maybe it was because she was the closest in age – they were hardly a century apart – but it was likely thanks to her gall. It was hard to reign in her sister. While their parents had taken time to find a man that Radny finally deemed fit enough to marry, Sjofn rebelled against the very idea of commitment. She had rebelled so much, in fact, that she had made a show of bringing back both men _and_ women to the home many-a-time. After a stretch, her parents understood she would not be tamed.

"Does Bjorn like your cooking, Radny?" Sjofn asked. "Or has he been slowly starved?"

"Sjofn! I'm sure her husband loves that she is trying." Her mother scowled. Sjofn was already laughing, but upon seeing Sigyn trying to hold back her own giggles, the older sister began to cackle loudly. Her father grunted, disliking when they encouraged each other as they were.

"Delling," Tyr moved to change the subject, angling his body so that he was speaking only to his son. "Did you go to the Training Grounds today?"

"I did," her brother was still stuffing food into his face as he spoke. "We did not get a lot done, though. We had to make way for the princes; they took up the whole area with their sparring."

At the thought of the princes, Sigyn found her face heating up again. She prayed to Odin that her brother would not mention their incident with Prince Loki earlier that day. But her brother was preoccupied with eating and it seemed because the prince had been out of sight, he was also out of mind.

"And who won?"

"Prince Thor, of course," Delling explained with a laugh. "He always wins. Those tricks of Prince Loki's can never outdo the power he has with Mjolnir."

Sigyn rolled her eyes, she couldn't help herself. With his well-trained eye, her father caught the action. He frowned, narrowing his eyes at her.

"Let me guess, you approve of such trickery?" He asked brusquely. Sigyn fidgeted in her seat, moving her eyes to her mother. Her mother widened them slightly, trying to insinuate that she should not start a fight. Sigyn didn't want to…but she knew it would only be worse if she dared to try and lie.

"I do not believe magic to be trickery," she said quietly. She steeled herself, preparing for the fight her words would bring. "Brute strength is not the only making of a warrior."

"Of course not," her father's voice dripped in disdain. "But this is not about warriors, is it? To you, magic is noble."

"I believe it can be, yes," she said quickly. She looked around the table for any help, but her siblings were now averting their eyes. None of them had ever taken interest in magic and this argument was well and often played out. Over time, it seemed they had learned to stay silent. "Magic is not just something that people do to trick others. Magic comes in many forms, father. There's healing and Seeing and—"

"And trickery," he finished for her. She went to speak again but her mother's dark eyes gave such an intense look that made Sigyn want to hold her tongue. She looked again to her siblings – Radny ignoring the conversation, Delling trying to stuff his face to ignore the fight, but when her eyes made it to Sjofn, she caught the glance. She nodded slightly to her younger sister as if urging Sigyn to fight back.

"Prince Loki is shameful in the way he does things," her father was mumbling. "It's cowardice, the kind of magic he uses. It does not matter his ability, it does not matter his intent, he's constantly causing trouble—"

"Magic does more than cause trouble and trickery," Sigyn's voice came out louder than she meant it and it made her heart pound nervously against her ribs. "It is used in every aspect of Asgard and to ignore that is to ignore the very power that Asgard is known for. If you dismiss the magic we use to thrive, then you insult our very King and Queen by dismissing it."

Her father slammed his cutlery on the table, glaring daggers through his daughter. "I know for a _fact_ that the Allfather—"

"Knows even more sorcery than his son!" Sigyn raised her voice to meet his rage. She was tired of having this argument. She was tired of making good points and having them being thrown away just because of his prejudice. "Magic is not something to be hated father, it's something to be admired! Would you truly have these opinions had I not left for Vanaheim to learn it? Is this discrimination simply because of how much you disapprove of me?"

She wished she hadn't asked the question as soon as it had left her lips.

Her father, pale eyes blazing, levelled her with a glare that told her the answer.

"That's enough," her mother, her deep voice sounding like there was something in her throat, stood to address them both. "Sigyn, I believe it's time that you go upstairs and resume your studies. Tyr, I should like I word with you outside."

Sigyn, happy enough to get back to her studies, threw another look to her father before rushing back up to her room and ensuring that she slammed her door.

She opened one of the newer books from her trip that day, digging back into the mechanics behind Hod's theory of elemental change. She read for quite some time, ignoring the hum of the argument her parents were having outside. After a while, when it had died down and her father had slammed his bedroom door, her mother entered her room.

"You do not need to bait him, you know," Fulla said simply, cautiously moving to sit at the foot of her daughter's bed. Sigyn pulled up her feet so that her mother would not be touching her – she did not want to be comforted _or_ lectured. She wanted to lose herself in the very magic that her father thought was so unfit for Sigyn to learn.

"I didn't."

"You are a beautiful soul, Sigyn," her mother sighed. "But you are still so naïve. Your father speaks from a place of experience that you cannot appreciate—"

"And what experience does he have with magic, besides finding it useful?" Sigyn slammed her book shut to look at her mother. "Magic has only helped him in battle, but now he despises it? I have heard his war stories, I have heard of his victories – magic always plays some sort of factor. He simply hates it now because I have taken such a shine to it."

"Not everyone sees the truth as you do, Sigyn," her mother smiled, leaning forward to cup her cheek. This time, Sigyn let her. She had always felt at odds with her mother as a child – her mother had been cold to her when she was young. But as she began to grow, and the relationship between her and her father began to fade away, her mother had stepped up to the challenge of being a present parental figure. "Sometimes people lie to themselves so much that they do not realize they have passed the lie to others."

Sigyn knew this to be true. Ever since she was young she had always been able to tell when people lied. She could see through any falsehood or fib, she could see through disguises and misplaced intentions. She knew that sometimes people did not – or possibly could not – even acknowledge their own lies…but that did not mean that they should not be called out on this behaviour.

"A self-imposed lie does not begin a hatred like this," Sigyn cradled her knees even closer to her chest while she looked at her mother. "Does he really hate me so much that he hates all I love?"

"He worries over you," her mother said after a moment. She did not miss the fact that her mother did not reject the entire idea, but she could tell her mother spoke the truth – or at least the truth as she knew it. "He has seen Magic ruin people's lives, Sigyn. He worries that it will do the same for you. It's can be an addiction, the power magic can bring. He does not want to see you overtaken by it."

"Why does he expect I will be?" She asked with a frown. "Does he really think I have so little control?"

Her mother looked like she was going to say something meaningful, something important before she leaned forward and kissed her daughter softly on the forehead. When she pulled away, the indecision still seemed to linger behind her eyes.

"Rest well, my little Syn," she said the nickname sweetly, likely because of how much Sigyn disliked it. "Win or lose, this not a battle to be fought tonight."

Her mother blew out the lantern next to Sigyn's bed, ending any idea that she would study more before bed. While Sigyn thought about possibly relighting it – and out of spite she would have done this with magic – she figured sleep might be a good idea after such an eventful day. At this point, she would take any escape from the confines of Asgard, even if it was only in her dreams.

* * *

 **Thank you so much for your response to this story! To all my reviewers, I would like to send a big thank you. I am responding privately to those with accounts, but let me give a quick shoutout to:**

 _stlmoonlight_ **: Thanks! I've been very excited to write this story, it's been in my mind for a while. I hope that you'll like what I've come up with!**

 _MissEvangeline_ **: With GEM winding down, it's nice to have something else to look forward to in the fanfic world. I hope that it remains intriguing after this chapter and that you continue to like the direction I'm heading in. Thanks for reviewing!**

 **I'm so glad that it sounds like people are already interested in the concept of this story. I hope that you liked this taste into Sigyn's world, especially before things start to go a little crazy. And don't worry, next chapter Loki and Sigyn will meet properly. I will be posting 'cast photos' and other answers to questions on Twitter, so please add me** EgyptsLegend **for sneak-peeks, Q &As, polls, and updates! Also, I would love to hear what you are thinking of the story so far, so please remember to ****review** **!**

 **-Egypt**


	4. Chapter Three

Chapter Three

Loki Odinson was everywhere and Sigyn was sure of it. It had now been over a fortnight since she had first acknowledged the ill-mannered prince, and ever since the interaction, it was as if he was all she could think about. Now, in her defence, that was likely because the mischievous prince was consistently appearing out of nowhere throughout her days. It became evident that he frequented the library during the same odd times that she had grown accustomed to, and though he had never actually spoken to her, he always seemed to be peering her way. Sometimes he would suddenly surface from nowhere before pretending as if he had not seen her, even while she would need to leap from his path.

It took her a long while to understand this behaviour. While she was first concerned he was trying to corner her while alone, Sigyn realized sometime during the second week that the prince was testing her. The way he would materialize and vanish in the same breath, the way he would stalk past her just waiting for her to take notice of him…it became apparent that Prince Loki was testing his abilities on her. Whether he was testing his own invisibility or testing her resistance against seeing the grand illusions he would cast, the God of Mischief was throwing as many obstacles at the little mage as he possibly could.

Sigyn didn't know whether to be flattered or terrified.

Early that morning, before the sun had risen above Asgard's starry horizon, Sigyn found herself sitting next to the Gatekeeper of the realm. She always considered it soothing to be in the presence of someone who protected and watched over the worlds around her – for, in truth, Sigyn wanted to be in any realm save this one. And now the young mage had not been able to rest after her mother, Fulla, had informed the women in the family that they would be making their way to the palace that day. Her mother had uncharacteristically refused to say why; which of course left Sigyn to assume that Prince Loki had finally set up some sort of plot to enact his revenge. She had vainly hoped that by refusing to acknowledge the prince again, he would forgive her for her slip in revealing him in the library and for being able to see through his illusions.

It seemed she was wrong.

If this visit went as her mother planned – though she had no doubt that if the prince wanted, he could derail that plan – Sigyn and her sisters would be meeting with the queen today. It would not be her first meeting with Queen Frigga, but she had not sat through one of these visits in well over a century. She had been young, innocent, and wide-eyed back then. Queen Frigga had always treated her kindly and often spoke about how talented with magic she would one day be – long before her father had agreed to let her study it. Sigyn always wondered whether or not her Majesty's gift of foresight had anything to do with such compliments; she had always dreamt that they had been born of a knowledge that one day, Sigyn would light the world with her magic…rather than burn it as her father predicted.

"Do you know why we are meeting with the queen today?" She found herself asking Heimdall, gazing up at him from where she sat at the edge of the Bifrost.

"I do not know _all_ things," he contended with a pull to his lip. It looked dreadfully close to a smile. "Though I suspect you are not just going as an accessory to Lady Radny's new position."

Radny, as the eldest, would soon be following in their mother's footsteps so that she could become one of Frigga's handmaidens. Due to their father's illness, it appeared that the process had been hastened – but Sigyn couldn't think of any reason why the queen would want to see her and Sjofn as well. Unless, of course, it had something to do with the dark prince's habits.

As the day grew nearer, the inky colour of night began to brighten the world into an oceanic blue. She would have to be called soon to get ready so that her mother could spend hours fussing to ensure her daughters were ready to meet with the queen. It was funny, really, considering how much she tried to keep in the queen's good graces; Fulla was Frigga's most trusted handmaiden. Were her mother a goddess, it was rumoured she would have been the goddess of secrets. But her mother had never warranted such a status.

She was the daughter of the goddess of secrets and the god of war and justice. And because of this unofficial title, she was about to be made up like a doll. It was as if her mother wanted her married off as her sister had been.

"Your mother is waking," Heimdall informed her after a long silence. He hadn't needed to, she knew that today her mother would be up at daybreak. "She will be upset if you are not in bed."

"I just want to watch the sun rise," she reasoned with a frown. Though she knew Heimdall would not turn her away, she felt the need to defend herself. "I have a feeling today will be an awful one."

"You worry about Prince Loki," Heimdall stated knowingly. She looked up at him, making a face of guilt.

"I fear I've angered him," Sigyn admitted quietly. "Now I just await whatever consequences he has in store."

"Prince Loki is certainly worth watching carefully," Heimdall nodded. "But something tells me he's been watching you for more than just revenge."

"So…I shouldn't fear going to the palace?"

"There are many things to fear within the nine realms, Lady Sigyn," Heimdall, ever honest, honestly. "But something tells me Prince Loki should not be a priority."

Sigyn hummed to herself, turning around to watch as the flames of the sun peaked above the horizon. The stars began to dim and fizzle until they were drowned out by the light of the morning. As the sun rose, the water beneath her seemed to catch alight, creating something nearly as beautiful as the Bifrost beneath her. But the beauty could not last forever. And when Heimdall announced that her mother was looking for her, she knew the serenity of her night had already ended.

Perhaps the Gatekeeper was right. Maybe Sigyn had nothing to fear…but all the same, something told her that today would be life-changing. Besides, Sigyn knew better than most that it was important to stop and appreciate the little things – at least while she still had the chance.

* * *

Loki, again, was frustrated – something that had been happening often since he had first run into Sigyn Tyrdottir. After being unable to find a legitimate pattern between when the little mage noticed him versus when she did not, he consequently felt on edge. Sometimes he was sure that she would have noticed him were her nose not so deeply shoved into a book; but most of the time she'd shyly glance away as if knowing that she wasn't _supposed_ to be seeing him.

Which she wasn't. Yet she did.

Loki was a better sorcerer than this. He had known these tricks for a millennium and it was beyond infuriating that some first-level mage, on leave from her studies, was so easily able to see through his illusions. He was sure that his mother had foreseen this; that she had foreseen the madness he was currently facing as he tried to realize what he could possibly be doing wrong.

He had learned quite a deal about the girl from his weeks of spying. Sigyn was the youngest of four children; the child of Fulla, his mother's most trusted handmaiden, and Tyr, a very famous and decorated warrior for the crown. He had not known before his spying that the old legend had taken ill. And he was quite ill. But it seemed that the girl was remiss, almost unbothered by his weakness. This was strange to Loki, considering her siblings seemed quite tormented.

He wondered if he should have remembered this family better than he did – surely, he had grown up around them. Fulla was always around him, after all. But still, he couldn't remember having interacted with the family. Well…all but one. It was hard to forget how well and _intimately_ he and Sjofn had known each other. It had been decades before when she had shared his bed for a number of weeks – but she shared beds with nearly anyone. There was rumour years ago that Freya had taken notice of her, that she may become an apprentice to become a minor Love Goddess…though Loki doubted she needed any training.

Sigyn, however, did not appear to be an impending goddess of anything. Despite her abilities in discerning whenever he was near, she didn't show outward signs of much talent. She was successful in the most basic of magic – things he had mastered while quite young – but he knew that wasn't enough to make you a Sorcerer. And while Sigyn seemed ravenous to consume the knowledge on how to succeed…he had never seen her have any motivation to practice with the magic she had.

Most curiously, Sigyn seemed to hate going home. There had been a few times where he had followed her family to their hovel that lay outside of the royal grounds, but she had never actually gone directly home with them. She stayed all hours she could within the palace library or would run errands that he suspected did not need to be run. Sometimes, she slipped away toward the Bifrost – a place he would not follow because even if _she_ didn't see him following, then Heimdall surely would.

During all of his espionage, his mother seemed very aware of what was happening. As coy as she would play, Frigga constantly prodded him as to why he was spending so much time at the library. She also frequently questioned just how many books were on the shelves that he had not already read. It was on one of these daily visits that he decided to give in to her toying.

"Why don't you just tell me whatever game you're playing?" Loki sighed, seating himself in one of the ornate chairs in his mother's chambers. He had made this argument innumerable times now, but his mother never gave away her secrets.

"I'm not sure I'm following," Frigga's small smile did nothing to help her case. "To what do you refer?"

"I'm referring to Fulla's daughter, which you well know," Loki was unable to stop himself from rolling his eyes. His mother chuckled as she sat opposite him. "What did you see of her future and why are you bothering me with it?"

"You know I will not speak of what I have Seen," she said simply. "Have you really been bothered by this? I could not tell."

Her sarcasm did nothing for Loki's mood. "You can't sit there and lie to a liar."

"You are much more than a liar, Loki." She told him with a smile. "It is natural for you to be curious in someone like Sigyn."

"I have sated my curiosity about her," he told her simply. "Now I'm curious why _you_ are so pushy. She is nothing special—"

"You are more than a liar, Loki. And you can do better," she chastised. Still, she grinned broadly. "Sigyn is quite special. You know this, I'm sure."

The way she spoke told Loki exactly what he needed to know – his mother knew that Sigyn's magic seemed to be uncooperative with his own. Because of his mother's magic, she knew the root of his insanity.

"Then tell me what I should know."

"I cannot speak of what I have Seen," she repeated. Her eyes danced with a familiar mischief that the prince knew well. "Though I must ask why you are so interested, Loki."

"You know why," his eyes narrowed. "How is she able to see through my magic?"

Frigga raised her eyebrows, her mirth falling into an expression of interest. "I did not realize that she could see through all your magic…though it makes sense."

Loki leaned forward in his seat, ready to receive some answers. "And how is that?"

"From a young age, I remember Sigyn always being able to divine the truth from those around her," Frigga leaned back, looking into the distance as she contemplated. "It would make sense that she could see through your magic when all you're displaying are falsehoods."

"I'm not displaying anything," Loki frowned, knowing that when he was invisible he shouldn't have been displaying anything at all.

"Which is the falsehood," his mother argued calmly. "I suspect with time Sigyn will become a minister for Truth and Justice…much like her father."

Well, at least that made sense: Tyr had been a formidable warrior in his time. He had conquered over the Vanir during the war and was one of his father's highest-ranking generals. He had taken to being the swift decider of justice against war crimes that had been committed on the battlefield…it made sense that his daughter would inherit that judgement.

"He is quite sick," Loki paused. "Is that why you have been without Fulla most days?"

Frigga nodded, looking solemn. "Tyr is near his end. Fulla should be with him. That's exactly why Sigyn has returned from her studies in Vanaheim."

"Why is she studying in Vanaheim in the first place?" Loki huffed. "She's the daughter of a handmaiden. This must mean that she will become a handmaiden."

Frigga smiled slightly. "Her mother will be in my circle for many years yet – why deprive her of the knowledge she so sorely needs? I have enough handmaidens for now."

"And why does she so surely need that knowledge?"

Frigga laughed at his inquisitiveness. "Sigyn was quite a…disruptive child. She has an affinity for fire just as powerful as her affinity for truth – it caused quite a few issues in her youth."

How had he not learnt that in his time watching her? He had never seen her play with fire at all. Though now that it was being said, Loki vaguely remembered Fulla asking his mother how best to deal with a 'fiery issue' in years past. He had not realized that it had been about her daughter. He even remembered a fire in the handmaiden's home – Odin himself had quelled the flames.

Was that why they had shipped her away to Vanaheim?

Was that why she wanted so badly to return?

"She's an elemental?" Loki could not bite back his shock.

"I don't believe she would be considered an elemental. I believe she just has a strong affinity towards fire," Frigga sat back in her seat and sipped at the tea which had finally cooled. "Similar to your affinity toward illusion."

"And how does this talent with fire mix with her natural ability to see the truth of things?" Loki's eyes narrowed. "First I believed you were trying to make me court her – now I'm concerned you're trying to drive me mad."

"Is that not what love is?" Frigga laughed. Loki blanched at the word.

"I do not _love_ her," he scoffed. "I have not even properly met her. If this is your end game, mother—"

"Always so suspicious," Frigga placed her hand on her son's cheek as she tried to hold back her laughter. "I expect nothing more of you than to be kind to her, Loki. She is soon to lose her father. She will need support."

"I need not support her, she is not my _friend…_ "

"She could be," Frigga smiled, pulling back. "And from what I remember of Fulla's daughter, she is quite loyal. She would be a good friend to have for you – someone very understanding."

"You're still playing this-this _love_ game, mother and I swear that I will—"

A knock on the door silenced Loki. His mother's face cracked into a large smile.

"Ah, right on time!"

And of course, in the classic, meddling fashion for which his mother was so well-known, in traipsed the very person he did not want to see. Sigyn was here.

She was with her mother and sisters, looking miserable as she followed behind the group. Loki could hardly register that their brother was missing from their regular posse and had been replaced by the eldest sister – what was her name again? – who he rarely saw Sigyn spending time with outside of her home. With all of the girls of the family clustered together in the middle of his mother's chambers, he was able to identify just how out of place Sigyn looked within the group.

She shared many of her mother's characteristics; she was tall, she was dark haired and eyed, and her skin was a different tone than her sisters'…but there was a way about her that was entirely her own. It may have had to do with the fact that she had a book cradled to her chest again. It also may have had to do with the furrow to her brow as she spotted him.

"Is this a good time, my lady?" The handmaiden asked, faltering in her steps as she took in the Queen's company. Loki wanted to roll his eyes – this _particular_ handmaiden had never trusted him. Though, to be frank, none of them really did. But Fulla had always been hard on him and had taken no qualm to chide him when he was young. Most had simply feared him, but she had never allowed his mischievousness to go without punishment.

Now he wondered whether that was because her own daughter had presented as a bit of a problemed case, herself.

"Now is fine, Fulla," she smiled toward the group. She stood from her chair, walking in front of them so she could take in them all. Loki could not help but notice how her eyes seemed to focus best on the object of his psychosis. "My, how you all have grown."

The sisters each bent into low curtsies for him and his mother. Sigyn had quickly hidden her book behind her back as she did so, her eyes determinedly staying away from his own. He couldn't help but wonder if she was anxious because of whatever book she had in her possession, or simply by his presence.

"Are we in trouble, your grace?" Sigyn asked, her eyes quickly moving to Loki before she lowered them again. He knew why she might think that – after he had stalked her footsteps for the last couple weeks, to come face to face with him must have been a shock. Perhaps she didn't know whether or not she was supposed to be seeing him as he sat in his mother's study.

Hm, that could be fun.

"Not at all, my dear. My son is simply here for tea and I wanted to meet with Radny before she begins in my service. I also thought it pertinent to send my condolences about your father's health." While the other women had the decency to look downtrodden at the mere thought of him, Sigyn did not show that same moment of sorrow.

"I am so grateful that I will be able to serve you, my queen," Radny curtsied again. Loki had not been this close to the girl, but he would confidently say she was the most beautiful. The sisters were each statuesque– but the visible contrast between Sigyn and her sisters was even more startling while they all stood together. It was like seeing the differences between him and his own brother – they were entirely dissimilar.

"Of course, you all know Prince Loki, my youngest son," Loki had to work hard not to roll his eyes with how obvious his mother was being. If he could sense the hedging insinuations, he was now sure that Sigyn would. "Why I believe your Sigyn is studying magic as well, is she not, Fulla?"

Fulla's gaze cut to Loki in a way that he was all too used to. That look meant she disapproved of the two being lumped into the same category – he often saw it in the eyes of those who did not agree when he and Thor were placed side-by-side. "Indeed, she has been studying in Vanaheim for the past few decades."

"Have you yet decided which course of magic to focus on, Sigyn?" Frigga asked with a welcoming smile. He wished his mother wouldn't be so welcoming to the girl. That warmth only made him worry about her intentions – and how far she planned on pushing them.

"I have not mastered any specific form of magic yet, your majesty," Sigyn explained, sure to keep her eyes focused on the woman in front of her, rather than Loki's glare. "For now, I'm still practicing understanding the magic I do possess."

"Well perhaps if you feel amiss without your classwork, I could mentor you while you stay here," Frigga offered. "Perhaps Loki will even join us with his own expertise."

Loki nearly fell out of his chair. Sigyn's dark eyes moved to Loki again, though he was singularly absorbed in avoiding her gaze. Any of the women in the room would have been able to know he didn't approve of what was being offered of him. But knowing that the girl relied heavily on the truth, he couldn't help but be curious over how the girl would respond.

"I would be honoured to spend any time in your presence, my lady," she bowed again. Loki was impressed by how she dodged the question and ignored the fact he even existed. "And to learn illusion from a master like your son would be an honour…though I would not consider it if it would cause any trouble."

Loki was startled. He'd half expected her to ignore his very existence considering the way she worked on avoiding his eyes…but instead, she had admitted to wanting to get to know her stalker? What an odd woman.

"He is quite the master of sorcery," Frigga smiled proudly, giving a fond look over her shoulder to her son. He could basically see her eyes swimming with delight. "I am very proud of him."

"As you should be."

Well, now Loki couldn't help but feel annoyed. No part of him wanted to do anything that wasn't on his own terms and he could already see where this was headed. His mother clearly wanted them to spend some time alone with the purpose, likely, to court her. But it didn't matter how badly he wanted to know the intricacies of her abilities, he would not ever consider such a thing with that…that _tone_ of hers. It was almost as if she was taunting him.

Was he really such a master of sorcery if she was able to see through every illusion he attempted to cast…including his current illusion of disinterest?

"And what, pray tell, are you reading, Sigyn?"

" _Kree Legacy and Legend,_ by Klona," she moved the book from behind her back. Anyone in the room could see from the blush on her face that she considered it embarrassing. His mother laughed at her bashfulness.

"What an interesting read. Tell me, what convinced you to end up with that old tome? Have you already worked through everything else in our library?"

"I only wish I could move through the entirety of the knowledge within that library. Though I must admit, I am moving through this at a snail's pace," Loki knew a lie, perhaps as well as Sigyn seemed to know the truth, and that talent told him just how sincere she was. Her smile – something he had never before seen from her – was so shockingly genuine that it threw him off-guard. He clearly had not been paying attention to her at the right times, because the smile seemed oddly well-suited to her face.

"You remind me so of Loki," Frigga grinned. "You know, my son has quite the extensive private library – don't you, Loki? Why don't you show her some of your rarer series? It could help discern what magics might best fit her abilities."

He was now sure that everyone in the room knew what was happening – he was being set up on a date by his _mother._ How humiliating. Luckily, he didn't seem to be the only one who didn't agree with the situation.

"That is not necessary," Sigyn's mother stated before either of them had a chance to speak. It was probably a good thing, considering that her youngest daughter looked just about as astounded as Loki felt. "Sigyn has more than enough readings left from Vanaheim."

"I insist," Frigga smiled. As polite as the act was, it was clear that she would not be dissuaded. "If anyone knows the hunger for knowledge that your daughter seems to have, it would be my son."

"I would not want to be a bother," Sigyn sounded terrified and tried to keep her worry from her face. "Besides, I don't think the prince cares to be seen in the presence of me—"

"Sigyn!" Her eldest sister Radny cried, looking mortified.

"What? There are plenty of instances where it is clear he does not want to be seen in my presence," her eyes moved over to him. "And I do not wish to make him more uncomfortable than he already is."

He hated that. He had noticed that sense of understanding his emotions back from when she first noticed he was watching her, and he loathed that she was more than willing to announce it to the room. His mother looked more than pleased with herself, her own mother looked annoyed, and both her sisters looked aghast that she would dare to assume what he thought.

At least those girls had the common sense to look abashed.

"Sigyn, you can't just speak like that about the prince—"

"I have no problem being in your presence, Lady Sigyn," Loki was quick to put on his best lie. He tried to keep his voice clear of his frustration. "If you desire any of the books in my study, you are more than welcome to them."

At his words, she made a face that seemed to indicate he had wounded her.

"You do not need to lie for my comfort," she stated boldly. "I do not want to take your comfort from you. You do not owe me this graciousness."

Loki's eyes narrowed at her nerve. There was no well in all of Hel that he would admit to being uncomfortable now. "Nonsense. It is no problem at all."

He stood and glided past the group of women, moving toward the large doors of his mother's quarters. He looked back when he reached them to see his mother's wide smile and the other women looking as if he had stolen their breath away from them.

"Well? Are you coming?" He was happy to wait for her to call his bluff, so he quickly moved through the doors.

Loki did not need to look behind him to know that her curiosity would demand her to follow.

* * *

 **Thank you for your follows, favourites, and reviews for the last chapters. I really appreciate all the support that this story has gotten so early in its life. I hope that you guys liked this new chapter – I promise the next one will be out soon because I'm very excited about it! It's the first time the two of them will** _ **really**_ **interact. To those of you with accounts, I responded privately but to my other reviewers:**

 _RoyalTeeya_ **: Thank you for taking the time to read this when you haven't actually seen the movies! Obviously, I recommend them, but I know more than most how busy life can be. Getting into the Marvel Cinematic Universe is no small undertaking…the film realm is massive now. But I promise, when you get the time, it'll be worth it. Plus, since I know you're an HP fan, fun fact: the first Thor movie was directed by Gilderoy Lockhart! Anyway, thank you as always for your review and I hope you liked the new chapter.**

 **Please remember to add me on twitter as** EgyptsLegend **for updates, polls, and Q &As. Also PLEASE **_REVIEW_ _ **!**_

 **-Egypt**


	5. Chapter Four

**I apologize for not updating this story sooner, but I'm in the final stretch of my story** Green Eyed Monster **and I've been focusing on finishing that story before fully delving into this one so as not to confuse my main characters or their very different personalities. Luckily I can bring you the first chapter where Loki and Sigyn really interact! I just watched "Endgame" and it gave me a lot of new inspiration for this story...there will be lots of wonderful things to come!**

 **Enjoy.**

* * *

Chapter Four

* * *

Sigyn could not recall ever having walked through these golden-plated halls. During her years of playing in the palace as a child or following her mother to her duties, Sigyn would often get to roam and explore the mysteries of the castle…but she was sure she had never been here. She had never really cared to venture too close to the princes and the thought of going to the private quarters of this _particular_ prince was alarming. This was very unconventional and were it not something that had been suggested by the queen herself, Sigyn was certain that it never would have happened.

The walls she passed were lined with gilded paintings and ornate tapestries. Where in the main areas of the castle the artwork was always about the wars that Asgard has conquered and the prosperity that the king had provided the nine realms, these works tended to lead more toward the tales of private adventures. They displayed things that Sigyn wished she would have had the nerve to ask about…but her host had yet to say a word on their journey and she did not want to be the first to break the silence.

Luckily for her, she did not have to wait too long.

"When you see through my illusions," Prince Loki's voice suddenly sounded, causing the young mage to jump a bit in surprise. While he was not facing her, she could hear the smile that edged his tone afterward. "Are you able to see me clearly, or are you able to tell that I'm trying to conceal myself?"

Sigyn found herself surprised by the question. There was a small part of her that had wondered whether or not the prince would pretend that she did not have the ability to see through his magic; another part of her had expected that he would simply take revenge without question or knowing the methodology behind her unique ability.

"I once believed I saw through them clearly," she answered, honest as ever. "Though recently, well, it has begun to look unstable. I assumed that it was purposeful. It's almost as if your form is inconsistent or broken. The colours seem so cold or your physiology does not seem to be accurate…am I to assume that you are shapeshifting to test me?"

Loki did not immediately respond. She looked away from his back, feeling uncomfortable again as she trained her eyes back to the ornate tapestry she was passing.

"I hear you have a talent with fire," Loki began again, leaving the statement hanging in the air without a question attached. Sigyn raised her eyebrows.

"Have you been asking about me, Your Highness?" She asked, not sure whether to laugh at the idea or back away from him. This may not have been simple idle curiosity, not when coming from Prince Loki. No, this may have been research for some horrible trick he would play on her to enact his revenge.

"It's natural to be curious over a mage with a natural affinity towards seeing through my magic," it was at this point he looked over his shoulder at Sigyn, a single eyebrow raised in question. Still, his expression was passive, as if he wasn't really concerned about her answers. "Does this affinity have anything to do with your prevalence to the truth?"

So, it seemed as if someone _had_ been doing his homework. Sigyn felt her face growing warm as she realized she was being interrogated – and by the prince, no less. Here she was, naively following him around in hopes of a better read than _Kree Legacy and Legend_ , and all the while the prince was trying to pry her for information. She didn't know whether to be affronted or to be complimented.

Was this some form of insecurity that he would no longer be able to hide in plain sight? If that was the issue, perhaps she should explain that she would not get in the way of his stealth.

The young mage cleared her throat. "If it is a worry that I'll reveal your secrets, my prince, I can assure you that the concern is misplaced."

"You already have revealed me," his voice was low as he glanced back over his shoulder again.

"That was a mistake," she looked down at the floor, hoping it could be a sign of how contrite she felt. "Now that you've been testing me, I'm sure you realize I see through these things unintentionally. In the library, I had not realized you were hiding. I was trying to be respectful."

"And in doing so, you revealed me."

"Again, an honest mistake," she looked back up, but he was no longer looking back over his shoulder at her as he led the way down the impressive corridor. She hoped that the journey wouldn't be much longer – once she was amongst books, she could pretend to be preoccupied; now she had no reason not to answer the prince's questions. "Am I to expect some act of vengeance for this error?"

This time he did look back at her, no longer with an unreadable expression, but rather a proud one. "Is that why you have been so nervous around me, Lady Sigyn?"

"Besides turning the corners to find you leering? Yes." Sigyn almost slapped her hand against her mouth. An unfortunate circumstance of being so entangled in authenticity that sometimes her words came out _too_ candidly. Sigyn's inability to keep such frank thoughts and facts to herself had often gotten her into trouble in the past – and she had no doubt it would remain this way in the future.

Particularly now that the Prince of Lies had shown some interest in her capabilities.

To her surprise instead of displaying insult to her words, however, the prince's shoulders seemed to shake with mirth while he continued his tour. "You had pretended to stop being aware of me, my Lady. I needed to discern the truth from your expressions."

While Sigyn could feel that a part of his words rang with sincerity, that strange and intuitive part of her knew that it was not the entirety of his reasoning.

"Is it really worth such effort? I am not worth spying on," Sigyn told him plainly, looking over to see how much longer the hall would stretch. She could not see the end clearly and since she had no idea how far down this corridor his chambers would be, she had no idea how long she would be stuck in this precarious place of catering to his examination. "If you wish to learn something about me, you need not haunt my footsteps, you need simply to ask."

"And you expect me to believe I would have received an honest answer?"

"Why would you not have one?" She asked him with a small smile to herself. He did not turn around to see it. "You are the prince of my realm. Not all of us are so talented with lies and even if I could be, I do not see what good it would do me to lie to the most talented lie-smith of them all."

Loki stopped in his footsteps, turning around to glance at her. She stopped as well, nervous by the idea of getting too close to such an unpredictable personality. She couldn't help but feel extremely exposed under his gaze and it made her feel uneasy. The prince was a far superior sorcerer comparatively and if he were to attack her now, her defaulted forms of magic would be too uncontrollable to risk fighting back in the confines of the palace.

Not that she would fight back anyway – he was the _prince._ His mother's position with the queen could be lost and in doing so, her sister's livelihood as well. Defending herself would not be a risk she could not take…meaning she was forced to endure whatever questions he desired to ask.

"Were I the most talented Lie-smith, do you not think I should be able to lie to a little mage like you?" The question itself was not what caught her off guard, but rather the bitterness behind it. It made her start from the ice to his words.

"You are the God of Mischief, my Lord. I believe the talent was written into the title," she responded carefully. "Though I cannot claim to have met everyone within the nine realms, I can assure you that from what I've heard, you are the most talented liar I know."

Loki, knowing that she was a candid girl, wondered if perhaps that candidness came with condescension – or maybe even some sort of offence. But when he looked into those dark, doe eyes of hers, he saw nothing but earnestness. It was a strange sensation, considering his mother was the only person who dared to be open with him after so many years of mischief and manipulation.

"Can you do so much as tell a lie, Lady Sigyn?"

"I can…" her voice trailed off as her eyes left his, her face growing warm as she thought about the countless times she had tried and failed to make a lie believable. "Though I do not often use lies in practice. Most times my attempt at lying reveals the truth anyway."

"Oh? In what way?"

"In the way that they're so horrible that _anyone_ can see through them," her large smile caught Loki off-guard again. It was a nice smile, almost dazzling in appearance – it took up almost too much of her face and completely changed how the light seemed to hit her. Yes, she had a nice smile. Perhaps he thought so because he wasn't used to people smiling around him – like Sigyn had felt earlier, most felt apprehensive around him. And they were right to. Loki Odinson liked playing on peoples' weaknesses once he learned them.

Which was exactly why he needed to find out _her_ weaknesses. Now that she was aware of how he snuck around and could see him while he was causing trouble, he needed something to hold against her to ensure her silence.

"Do you not believe in lying?" He found himself asking as he leaned against the wall to carefully read her expressions – it was an easy thing to do, she had a very animated face. Her forthright nature had clearly translated to every fibre of her being now and she was as easy to read as an open book. He watched as she looked around, hoping to escape the questions he was hurling at her – she must have been used to them after so many years of displaying this kind of affinity, but still, she clearly did not want to answer.

"I see where lying has its place in society," she stated carefully, her words clipped in a way that made Loki suspicious. "Though I do not always condone it. I believe it can make life more difficult."

"I find it makes life easier," his difference in opinion did not seem to surprise her. Instead, she smiled to herself, a stray thought playing through her mind that Loki could not follow as much as he may have wished it.

"Not for me."

He watched her closely, trying to determine her meaning again before he felt satisfied with her answer. Just as Sigyn could discern the truth, Loki had a talent discerning the lies of others…and he could not sense a lie coming from the little mage. Now that there was a break in the interrogation, Loki moved down the hallway a little farther, displaying a plain wooden door to the side of a large tapestry. It was not at all the kind of door that would make people suspect something important was inside – a purposeful addition that Loki had added when he was young to sneak around more easily.

"Are these your quarters?"

"This is the back entrance to my personal library," Loki explained, quietly opening the door. The young student almost looked like she was going to ask more questions before she caught sight of what the door had been hiding.

It was more than Sigyn could have ever imagined. Prince Loki's quarters were stacked high with books. The ceilings, at least sixteen feet tall, had shelves lining all the way to the top. The light that shone through the skylight overhead refracted onto the gold filigree on the corner of each heavy shelf of tomes. The light from the gold helped to create a warm, comforting place to enjoy the thousands of books he had homed there.

It was magnificent.

"This is incredible," she whispered, unable to hide her awe as she stepped over the threshold and entered the private space. "To have this within your own chambers…how do you ever manage to rest?"

"Usually in the middle of a sentence," he grinned to himself, she knew he was watching her carefully as she wandered around, but she couldn't keep her eyes on him. Instead, her neck was craned to try and see to the top of the shelves in the cavernous room. She moved to the books on the side, quickly leafing through the thick, leather pages of one volume before moving on to the next. It was as if she was testing each book for content and worth as she held it.

Loki scrutinized her wearily while she ran her fingers along the spines of the tomes. He briefly wondered just how many of these titles she may have already studied. He even wondered how many of them she had enjoyed…and then he found himself curious why he was wondering at all.

"What do you think?" He found himself asking, curious to hear the thoughts he could see tumbling around that head of hers.

"I'm… _hm_ ," she hummed to herself, her tone low as she shook her head. "I should not say."

He forced a laugh, feeling a little annoyed that she was not forthcoming – it likely meant that she had not approved of how he had arranged his personal collection. That was an insult that he would never be able to accept. "Is it really so terrible?"

"' _Terrible'_?" She repeated critically, her head snapping to the side, so she could stare at him. Her wide eyes held a fire that almost made him wonder whether he had somehow insulted her. "What's 'terrible' is the envy I feel that you have this at your fingertips. I would never sleep. I would never go for meals. I would never leave…"

"I find a similar appeal to it," he mused. He did not move but watched intently as she perused the shelves. With each movement or each book she would pick up to inspect, he found a needle-like urgency to question her again. He was able to hold his tongue while she looked through four tomes before he could no longer contain the compulsion. "Your father, he's taken ill?"

Sigyn's hand hesitated as it grazed the novels on the shelves for the slightest moment. Were he not watching closely, he might have missed it. She was quick to collect herself and pretend as if It had not happened.

"He has. The healers say he only has a month remaining on this plain," her voice was oddly even for the information she presented, and Loki felt his intrigue – and the compulsion to satisfy it – continue to build.

"I have seen your family, mourning. Do you not join them?"

This time Sigyn stilled completely, taking a long moment before she turned to face him. The look in her eyes was suddenly quite cold, darkened by whatever thoughts plagued her.

"I am an individual. I will mourn my father in my own way when the time comes," again he found the response a very diplomatic answer that somehow avoided the question. He had heard a few that night and Loki found himself wondering if she was speaking in this dignified way to dance around the fact she could not lie to him. "I do not believe in mourning that which is not yet lost. It's a waste."

"And your mother, how does she grieve?"

"Through denial," she answered, finally giving a less than tactful answer as her exasperation leaked through her voice. She turned to the books again, apparently no longer on the defensive, so that she could pick out a thick, leather-bound piece of work. "My brother and sisters celebrate his life while they have the time."

"But you do not want to celebrate? It is, after all, not a waste of a life. Your father is legend," he said carefully. He saw her expression pinch again, though she tried to hide her lively facial expressions behind the book in her hands.

"Indeed. My father has won many battles and righted many wrongs. He will be held in very high order when he passes on," she factually and emotionlessly stated again.

Well, now Loki was certain of it – the girl was merely stating facts that were true, rather than giving her most genuine feelings. It was not a strange concept, considering Loki was asking very prying questions – but he was also aware that most people would simply have lied.

She was not.

Perhaps she _could_ not.

He couldn't stop himself from already creating and accepting the challenge to try and force her into a position where she would have to lie before she would leave this chamber. He doubted he would have cared as much were she not so effective in dodging his queries. She was clearly well-practiced in this particular form of deception so that she could avoid telling a lie. A lesser mind, like his brother, likely would not have noticed the nuances and the juggle of terms she was using…but he was not a lesser mind.

"You do not sound close to him," Loki stated confidently. He felt a thrill of satisfaction when she breathed heavily, and she gave him a guarded look. Both of them knew that he would continue asking questions and they both knew that she was in no position to deny answering him.

"We were close, long ago. My father—" she stopped herself, glancing up at him carefully as if to gauge his expression before she looked back down to the book in her hands. "He does not approve of magic."

Loki was surprised to hear this of such a well-documented warrior. Tyr was well known for using magic in many tales of war and judgement and adventure…to disapprove of magic seemed counterintuitive to all the tales he had been told as a child.

"Before you ask, I do not understand his aversion," she mumbled into the book, her voice low. "I just know that it extends to anything and any _one_ who decides to defend the use of it."

Loki understood immediately. "Which includes you."

"It does."

"Your father is not a mage. I cannot remember your mother being one either," Loki began, his thoughts trying to understand exactly why an aversion to magic may have begun and extended to the man's youngest daughter.

"As I'm sure you're aware, any Asgardian can harness magic," the perceptive prince did not miss the way she gripped the book more tightly as she spoke. "I am unique to my family, but not to my people."

"Many of those who can harness magic do not have the power or control to become mages, particularly enough to practice in amongst the sorcerers in Vanaheim." Not that Loki had particularly enjoyed spending his time studying in Vanaheim – but he acknowledged that it was a sign of talent to learn there.

"I seemed to inherit a talent not commonly found within my bloodline," she agreed, nodding her head into the book so she could avoid making eye contact. "That does not mean it does not exist. My father has magic in his family; his brother—"

"You can make excuses all you like, my Lady," Loki couldn't help but grin, seeing that she was starting to get flustered by his questions. That level of frustration was making it more difficult for her to dance around his inquiries to keep her answers vague – if he continued on this route, he'd be hearing her lie in mere minutes. "But you will not be able to talk in circles forever."

Sigyn dared to meet his eyes, her eyes still cool.

"Tell me, Prince Loki," she said, her low voice was filled with implication. "How often is it that you're told the word 'no'?"

"Frequently."

She hummed, pursing her lips as she tried to hide her annoyance. "And how often is it that you take what you'd like anyway?"

"Frequently," he repeated, unable to hide his devilish grin.

She shut the book she was holding with a bit of a snap, holding it tightly to her chest while she turned to him. "As much as I am happy to provide you with truthful answers, Your Highness, I will not allow you to pry into my family's private affairs or bully me into learning them. My mother has assisted your mother for centuries – no, _millennia_ – and I do not wish to muddy any relationship between them."

"Your mother has been very good to the royal family," he agreed, letting a little bit of his deviousness slip into his tone. "As have your sisters."

There was a strange flip to his stomach as he saw the jealous wrinkle of her nose caused by his words. It was not often he got to play with someone's jealousy that was not his own. He watched as she turned on her heel to hide whatever expression continued to cover her face. This meant that not only could Sigyn Tyrdottir not lie with words, she was also not a decent actor. Her face was expressive, her emotions easy to read. It was something she must have acknowledged considering how quickly she had moved to hide.

Loki walked behind her, looking at the book over her shoulder. Ah yes, an old book on the Idisi – warrior women who learned to use combative sorcery. He had noticed a trend of her picking up and paying particular attention to novels that explored older, experimental magics.

"Goading me is pointless, my Lord. I am well aware of my sister's involvement with you," her voice sounded slightly haughty, but she could not stop her tone from dipping lower as she continued, "she bragged about it for weeks."

"I tend to have that effect on people," he spoke from behind her ear. She tensed, now knowing he was close, but bravely did not move away.

"Since we are interrogating one another, perhaps you will not mind as I pose a question for you," Sigyn asked, spinning around and holding the book tightly to her chest again. "Why do you practice the forms of magic you do, my Lord? Invisibility, shapeshifting, deception – what was your natural affinity?"

"Hiding," he stated simply. He looked at her levelly. "But it seems I cannot simply hide from you."

She nodded, her expression softening to one of understanding. He could basically hear her wondering why he was so curious – he had wondered the same thing for quite some time. But he knew why now: she had naturally spelled away everything he had considered talented about himself. She had torn apart the foundation of his magic _accidentally…_ he would not be able to forget or ignore such a feat.

"Revealing you that day was accidental," she said again. "I did not realize what I was seeing, and I was attempting to follow etiquette. My mother taught me well."

"Your mother does not seem to approve of our dalliances," Loki remarked slowly, gaging her reaction carefully. Part of him was surprised she had not shied away from him when he had surprised her earlier with his proximity – instead, she stood confidently near him.

"I would hardly call them 'dalliances,'" she replied, blinking in surprise. "I believe this is the first time I have ever been in a room where you meant for me to see you."

"And your mother knows that you have been in rooms with me before?"

"Of course not," she stated simply, turning on her heel again so that she could look to the titles on the shelf in front of her. It was surprising again, that she felt confident enough to turn her back on him. Not even his brother dared to try _that._ "I did not tell anyone in my family."

"In your family?" He noticed the specification immediately. "Did you tell anyone else?"

She kept her back firmly to him. "Not anyone who would mention it."

"Such as?"

She looked over her shoulder, her cheeks warm with embarrassment. "I may have…perhaps…spoken to Heimdall about my concerns."

Heimdall, of all people. Loki had never been able to get along with the Watcher of the Realms – how could they? Like this girl, Heimdall was one of the few who could always see his actions, but worse, somehow the man was always capable of seeing his _intentions._ And when his father would go asking what trouble Loki had gotten up to, Heimdall was always keen to reveal secrets.

"And why have you been speaking to the Gatekeeper?"

"I enjoy spending time near the Bifrost," she stated simply, still red-faced but happy to see the conversation moving in a different direction. "Watching over the realms, despite not being able to see far beyond Asgard, it calms me. It's grounding."

"The Gatekeeper is not one for conversation," he noted.

"We rarely converse," she shrugged. "He understands that I go there not for his company, but rather for the company of the stars."

Loki did not say anything in response while he considered what to bring up next. He wanted to ensure that he could trick her into lying to him, but with every new subject, he found he was more curious about her honest answers than the lies she could have told in their place.

"Your mother seems suddenly quite curious in my abilities," she began, her voice so light that he knew she was suggesting something. "All despite seeing my mother each day. Have you been talking to her about me?"

He was surprised by her playful tone, but he was not outwitted.

"She's become fascinated by you," he nearly rolled his eyes. "I think she's curious about the magic you have been learning; it is not common for her to be around students of magic that she has not been instructing. She's likely curious about your teachings, since she is not in command of it, herself."

She could hear the lie, but she chose to ignore it for the more interesting information he had told her. "Your mother takes apprentices?"

"She has not taken a new apprentice after mentoring me," he watched her face fall slightly. "My father never really approved of her having apprentices in the first place."

"That's a shame," she stated, pulling another book from the shelf to leaf through. "I can only imagine what wisdom she would have to impart. Why does your father disapprove?"

"I've always assumed it was something I'd done to upset him," he had not meant for the words to demand sympathy, but when Sigyn turned back to him he could see the empathy behind her eyes.

"Are you not close with the Allfather?"

"Well, there's generally a giant oaf in the way of our relationship," Loki spoke with what Sigyn thought was a surprising bitterness. "I tend not to find many meaningful relationships when standing next to my brother."

She nodded softly. "I hear you two are always sparring. I'd wondered if it was a sign of anger."

"Ah yes, Delling is often near the training grounds," he thought aloud. "And what does he bring back to the dinner table for conversation?"

"That you are stealthy and quick," she said simply. She turned away from him again – trying to hide the fact that she was close to lying. While initially he had wanted her to lie, he would prefer to hear the truth over what things were said about him behind closed doors.

"And what else?"

"That you use trickery," she spoke reluctantly. "That Thor defeats you."

He felt himself bristle at the thought. "Thor does not always defeat me."

"Delling does not always watch you," she countered as if trying to defend Loki and her brother at the same time. "I have never thought it fair when they compare the two of you, particularly in training."

Loki narrowed his eyes. "And why is that?"

"It sounds as if you are completely opposite in technique," she shrugged, her voice ringing with pure sincerity. "While you overcome obstacles with magic and agility, your brother tends to _be_ the obstacle and stand his ground with brute force."

"Most find being an impenetrable object the sign of a warrior," he stated, watching to see if she would look away or agree – her father had once been an impenetrable force in itself. It would make sense if she kept the standard Asgardian mentality of 'might over mind.'

"There is much more to a warrior than how they battle," she told him, her fingers playing with the pages on the book in her hands. "I used to watch my father train each day and his best days were when he refused to use force. Strategy is important – and he would always win when he used it. It's what has made him the legend he is…his way to see around such obstacles."

"And you simply see through them," he noted to himself.

"I do not fear the obstacles before me," she grinned to herself. "Even after seeing through them."

"You are young," he frowned. "You cannot yet see all the obstacles that lay before you."

"And you are embittered," she could hardly hold back her smile now. "You cannot see all the possibilities that span beyond any obstacle in your way."

"I am actually quite adept at avoiding obstacles," he told her sourly. "You have never seen my skill."

"I have not stopped to watch, it's true," she agreed in a way that frustrated him. Part of him wanted her to become defensive so that he'd have more of a chance to defend himself – she didn't really give him that option. "Though I would be curious to see your magic against Thor's hammer – I could imagine so many different techniques you could use…"

She was lost in her imagination now, he could almost see as she slipped away into her own fantasies. While she was still running her fingers along the spines of his books, she still held the original book tightly against her chest. He raised a brow as she walked past him, moving forward to steal it away from her grip.

" _The Ways of the Idisi_ , a fascinating look at combative magic," he informed her. "And what intrigue does this hold for you, little mage? Do you hope to be a warrior?"

"I find it hard to imagine I have the constitution to be a warrior," she giggled slightly at the thought. The sound made him grin a little – it was a nice laugh. Not mocking, not rude, but like all parts of her, it was genuine. "But it is something I have yet to study – something I'd like to study. While Vanaheim is rich with knowledge, I find that it teaches at a pace that cannot keep stride with my curiosity. So while combative magic is not the most fascinating or relevant of concepts to me, I am curious to know what it entails…"

He had read the book a handful of times in the past, it was an interesting read on the concepts of magic working with combat. It spoke of the ways it could be useful and the ways it could be detrimental – it talked of theories and experiences where things had and had not worked. If she truly had not begun to learn about these things, it would be a good place to begin.

He held out the book to her. "You may borrow it."

Her eyes went wide as she looked from him to the book in his hand, and back again. Had she expected him to deny her from having it? He had invited her to his study – thanks to his mother's insistence – clearly it was so she could find something that suited her fancy.

"I-I just figured that I could copy the title and see where else had it available," she defended, reaching forward slowly so that he would have a chance to pull the book away if he changed his mind. "I don't want to deprive you of your private readings…"

But she wanted the book, that much was clear.

"My mother would disapprove of such a notion," he told her. He watched as her eyes narrowed infinitesimally, catching hold of his lie. "You may borrow it until you are done with it. I have the passages I need already long memorized."

"You use this in your personal battles?" She looked down at it again with renewed interest. "Which techniques, specifically?"

"One day you should come to the training grounds to see for yourself," he told her. "A little mage like you could learn something valuable from it."

Her face burnt, but she was brave enough to meet his eyes. "Perhaps I will."

And strangely, a part of him genuinely hoped she would.

* * *

 **Yay! They have met and spent time together and there is definitely a spark. I told you it would not be a slow burn like** Green Eyed Monster **was, haha. I hope you liked this chapter, thank you so much for taking the time to read and review what has already been posted of this story. To those wonderful readers without accounts:**

 _RoyalTeeeya_ **: Ah, yay! First, I'm glad you got around to seeing Thor; wasn't it wonderful? I love mythology so to see this play on it is so great, even if I wince a lot of the time because of how much they played with it. Did you end up getting to the other two Thor movies? I really like being able to write Loki because he reminds me a lot of Audrey. It's nice getting to bring that kind of thought into my writing, but at the same time, I like moving on to some new character material as well. Sigyn will end up being very fun to write, particularly after the next few chapters when everything explodes. Thank you, as always, for your reviews!**

 _Bahh_ **: I'm sorry I made you wait for the chapter, but hopefully it was worth it. Because I'm finishing up another story right now I've been focused on that, but soon all my focus will be here. Thanks for the review!**

 **Thank you again for reading and reviewing, I hope you liked this 4-chapter and 3-story update! If you are interested in getting more information on this story (or any of the others) please add me on Twitter at** EgyptsLegend **for polls, chapter excerpts, and updates.**

 _ **Please Review!**_

 **-Egypt**


End file.
